


The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie

by Kestrealbird



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 09:09:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16115285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kestrealbird/pseuds/Kestrealbird
Summary: Irene Hanh has met two devils in her life. They make a rather deadly combination.





	The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie

**Author's Note:**

> So this was meant to have a COMPLETELY different tone to it that focused way more of the 'everyone fears Jigen' aspect but Lupin kind of derailed everything which, I think, is pretty telling of his character and now here we are. I'm churning out so many Lupin fics recently are you sick of my shit yet lmao

The Devil didn't have horns. He had no forked tail to speak of, and there was no brimstone on his breath; no fire left behind by cloven hooves. The Devil was no creature of biblical myth, who tempted you down to sin and brought your souls for an unfair bargain. The bible spoke of  _ a _ devil but did it speak of  _ the _ Devil? No. Irene Hanh knew the real Devil. She’d seen him driving down the Old Road’s in early July of ‘75, a cigarette poised on his lips, hat so low over his eyes all she saw was a black abyss instead of his face. 

The Devil was feared in the same breath that he was revered - valued, even, at such a high price that Irene had seen women sell their own organs just for a chance of employing him. Irene had seen the Devil. He lurked in the fearful eyes of dead men walking; he was the guillotine hanging precariously over the Underworld’s head; the body bags lining the Orleans River. He was your saviour just as much as your executioner. A wild dog, they would say, with no master. Just an old gun and a worn-out hat to his legend. 

The Devil’s name was spread so far that people in bars would toast to him in the dead of night, a prayer in their drunken minds. The closest most of them would get to believing in God, for just one moment, if it meant being spared the Devil’s sights. 

The Devil doesn't speak, but he greets you on the crossroads of hell with a .03 second draw of a .45 Magnum, somehow pulling off a perfect shot between your eyes even if the wind and rain is turning luck against him. The Devil wears a suit and tie, all perfectly ironed with no piece of lint out of place, hardly any dirt under his nails.

The Devil is a man called Jigen Daisuke, and he shows up in your room like a silent shadow, dressed to the nines for your pre-ordered funeral. 

Jigen Daisuke has no material loyalties. He has no master, no person whom he forms any long-lasting attachments. Until the day he does. Until the day that the Underworld meets someone to be feared far more than the Devil. 

Irene Hanh has no reason to fear the man sitting before her. She has no excuse for the ice in her spine and the shivers in her veins. Lupin the Third is only a thief, with no real blood on his hands; no contracted kills that strike a whispered fear into the hearts of people whose souls were drenched in the darkest tar. 

Irene Hanh has no reason to fear Lupin the Third. Except that Irene is certain this man is something conjured up in the darkest pits of hell that have yet to be explored, because Lupin the Third tamed the very Devil named Jigen Daisuke. And only the most unspeakable of monsters could ever pull off such a sinful grace.

“You put a collar on him,” Irene accuses. “You tamed Jigen Daisuke and made him a  _ pet _ .”

Lupin blinks, puts his tea-cup down. Smiles. “Is that what you think?” Of course that’s what she thinks. There’s no other explanation for it. Irene scowls. Lupin lets himself chuckle. “I didn’t  _ tame  _ anyone.” He spreads his arms out in a grand gesture, grinning wide. “If you want to use this analogy then I’m the one who set Jigen free.”

“...What?”

Was this man really that egotistical? Did he really think that by chaining Jigen Daisuke down he’d somehow “set him free”? Nonsense, the lot of it. For a man like Jigen...there was no such thing as freedom. Only another person to work for.

Lupin must see her thoughts reflected on her face because he lowers his arms with the sort of sigh that implies he’s had similar conversations before and is growing tired of them. Good. maybe he’ll stop thinking so highly of himself then. “He smiles a lot more you know,” Lupin tells her, his smile softer - more genuine. 

Irene sips her tea. “Smiling isn’t needed.” It’s a weakness that can be exploited. Nothing more, nothing less. 

“A weakness huh?” Irene stiffens. How did he…? “You know,” Lupin muses, “I have a friend who used to think the same exact thing. He used to be a real stick in the mud. He smiles a lot now, though, just like Jigen. I like hearing them laugh. Even if it’s at my expense.” He chuckles, here, and looks up at the ceiling. 

“Jigen isn’t free.” Her voice is sterner then it was earlier. There’s more steel to it. But there’s a curiosity in her eyes. A subconscious hope. Lupin thinks that she’s a lot like Goemon. Except that Goemon’s hands don't shake when he takes a life. “He isn’t free -” Irene clenches her fists - “he’s just chained to a post like any old mutt. What did you say to make him -”

“I didn’t make him do anything.” Lupin’s voice is harsher than he intended, his eyes a little colder than he wants them to be. He takes a breath, calming himself. “Miss Hanh, how do you define freedom?”

What a silly question to ask. Of course the answer was - “freedom is the ability to do whatever you want, consequences be damned, and live life to the best of your abilities.”

Lupin shrugs as if she’s just solved a very obvious problem. “Then Jigen was never free as a contracted killer was he? He never lived life; only went through the motions because that’s all he’d ever known.”

“I never said he was free, Lupin.” Irene smiles behind her fingers. The smile fades into stunned silence at Lupin’s next words.

“You’re not free either, are you Miss Hanh?” He leans forward in his seat, too close to her personal space. “My card said I’d steal you by morning.” Irene was well aware of that. It was why they were having a chat over tea like this. “I don't care what you do in life. But freedom, to me, is being able to laugh freely. Freedom isn’t just ‘do whatever you want’. It’s enjoying whatever you’re doing so much that you can’t help but smile and  _ laugh _ at yourself.” 

Irene freezes into place, her eyes wide as saucers. Did she not enjoy herself here, in this place? Was she not laughing when she took someone's life? Or...was the laughter just an act, as he so implied? “How do you know his laughter isn't fake? Jigen Daisuke is the Devil, remember. I’m sure he could trick you if he really wanted to.”

For some reason this made Lupin laugh. “Oh believe me he’s done that already! They all have! I do kind of deserve it though. But I can laugh about it later because I know what freedom is.” He looks down at her hands, smile losing its edge. “Your hands shake when you kill, Miss Hanh. You can’t look at the bodies afterwards -” Lupin meets her eyes across the table - “do you call that freedom? Or do you call it a cage?”

Jigen Daisuke is not the Devil they speak of in the bible. He doesn't tempt you to sin with well-placed words and tempting deals. He is no gentlemen who holds out his hand to dance with you in the night. Lupin however....

“Well Miss Hanh? Will you give me three days to show you freedom?”

Irene has met two Devils in her life. Both of them wear a suit and tie. Both of them deserve the fear that their names incite. Only one is feared for his kindness - his heart and charisma. 

Irene Hanh takes Lupin’s hand. Irene Hanh disappears just before sunrise, and never returns to her cold, daunting cage.

Jigen Daisuke is a Devil, because he doesn't think twice about taking a life. Lupin the Third is an unspeakable monster, because his whims are based on kindness. They’re a rather deadly combination.


End file.
